30 Crossdressing Prompts
by damageddementia
Summary: 30 short tales of manly men wearing unfitting female clothing. Interest you?
1. 10

So, recently I completed the thirty crossdressing drabble prompt over at livejournal, so I thought I'd post them here. Ten at a time. I own nothing, you sue no one. Mixed WWE and TNA. Ratings may differ, but not too much because a lot of the men are wearing unfitting female clothing. Don't say I didn't warn you, and enjoy.

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**1-10**

**1. Frenchmaid** (148 words, Shawn Michaels, Triple H)

Hunter's eyes were focused on the curve of his maid's ass as he dusted his mantle. The skirt barely covered his rear, and Hunter knew that, if he bent over only a little, he could get a peek of that glorious ass.

He quietly walked over, imagining his maid's reaction to his arms around his small waist. He'd lean on Hunter, letting the aristocrat get a smell of that long, blonde hair, maybe even press a kiss on his neck. He'd let his hand trail down the front of the little white apron...

"Ow!" His hand flew up to his eye, cupping the skin around it. He didn't expect Shawn to whip around and hit him with the handle of his feather duster.

"Back away," Shawn warned, wielding the duster like a weapon.

"This is coming out of your paycheck," he grumbled, wondering how he'd explain the shiner to his guests later.

**2. Nurse** (124 words, Matt Hardy, Chris Jericho)

"Just lay on your stomach." He didn't need to ask Matt twice. He laid there, aware of the fact that the hospital gown did little to hide his back or his legs. Once the nurse's fists began kneading into his back, he sighed in satisfaction... he was good at this.

"Relax now." Matt turned his head a little, doing his best to get an eyeful of his nurse. The white, thigh length stockings, the short, clean uniform... just the sight of Nurse Jericho was enough to make him feel legions better. As his fists went lower, down to the small of his back, pictures of Jericho laying on his back, legs spread, filled his mind.

"Good?"

"Oh _yes_," Matt nodded, grinning at the images crossing his mind.

**3. Bunny** (139 words, Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels)

"Be _very _quiet," Bret whispered, holding his rifle carefully as he tip toed through the forest, "I'm hunting wabbits." He looked down, seeing the footsteps of his prey in the snow. He followed them, tip toeing, eventually coming upon what looked like a rabbit hole

He laid a carrot down by the hole, running behind the tree to wait for the rabbit to come out of the hole. He watched quietly, any movements making his finger tighten on the trigger.

"What're we waitin' for?"

"That wascally wabbit. Now be very quiet. We don't want to alert him to our presense."

"You mean _this _wascally wabbit?" Bret didn't have time to register the words. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, the punch hitting home. Shawn Michaels walked over to the carrot, grabbing it and biting it.

"You'll never get my fluffy tail, doc."

**4. Princess** (180 words, AJ Styles, Shawn Michaels)

"What's a matter?" AJ looked up from his window, seeing his older brother at the door. He moved over a bit, making room so Shawn could sit next to him. Shawn pushed down the ruffles of his pink dress, unable to sit comfortably in it. "Fathers going to kill you when he finds out you're still in your nightgown. He has guests coming over soon."

"I hate that thing." AJ motioned over to the corset one of the servants left our for him. "I can't breathe in it."

"I can't breathe in mine either, but it's fashion."

"I don't care about fashion."

"Well, Father does, so... up." Shawn helped his younger brother up, forcing his hands up so he could pull the nightgown over his head. Once he stood there in his bloomers, Shawn grabbed the corset, walking towards him.

"Can I... skip that?" AJ asked warily, "I'll even put on the petticoats this time, just not... _that_."

"Listen Allen, I'm not getting in trouble with Father for you_, _so either you let me put this on you or I force it on you. Choose."

**5. Sailor Fuku** (110 words, John Morrison, CM Punk)

John Morrison's legs hung off the side of the pier. His shoes and socks were beside him as he wet his feet, just relaxing after a long day of school.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed his white tie, pulling it. He turned around, grinning at his good friend Phil. "How'd I know it was you?"

"Cause I'm the only one who can mess with you, Morrie." Phil kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, sitting next to Morrison and putting his feet in the water also. For a while they just sat there, idly kicking their feet and enjoying the cool water, but then Phil said, "Rough day?"

**6. Kimono** (138 words, Christian, Yoshitatsu)

Christian sat on the mat awkwardly, wishing he was in a chair at a regular sized table rather than on a mat near a giant footstool. But Yoshi wanted to do this for him, so he decided not to argue with it.

His mouth dropped open when Yoshi entered the room, wearing a purple kimono decorated with yellow flowers, and holding a teapot. He had no idea what to say; he was stuck between shock and... well, shock.

Yoshi bent down onto his knees on the mat on the other side of the small table, leaning over and quietly pouring tea into Christian's cup. Once it was full, Christian put on the best smile he could muster and said, "This was really nice of you."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you."

"Thank you."

Christian shook his head. _This is getting old..._

**7. Nightdress/negligee** (157 words, Evan Bourne, Tommy Dreamer)

Evan opened his robe, looking at himself in the mirror. He actually liked the way the purple lingerie felt, although he felt awkward in it. But he told himself he'd do it; after all, he lost the bet with Cody. He had to show his boyfriend how he looked in lingerie... in front of the whole locker room.

He dropped the robe, breathing, telling himself he could do it. After a few moments, he almost believed himself. He nodded at his reflection before opening the door, walking down the sections of the ECW locker room. He ignored the looks of confusion, amusement, and derision he was getting, turning the corner to where he knew Tommy Dreamer was taping up his wrists.

"Hey there big boy," he said, putting on the most exaggerated voice he could muster.

"What the heck are you on, Ev..." Tommy turned around, jumping at the sight. His eyes widened. "Um, Evan?"

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck are you on?"

**8. Waitress** (154 words, Christian, Edge, Jeff Hardy)

"Why are we here?" Christian asked, sitting across from his brother at one of the least frequented diners in town. "You hate this place."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Christian nodded, studying Adam, trying to understand him, "You said their burgers taste like fried crap. And I agree."

"You misunderstood me."

"No, I did not, you said clearly..."

Two menus slapped down on the table, cutting Christian off. He didn't hear the waitress rollerskate over, and didn't know he was listening. Jeff Hardy put his hands on the small pink skirt, looking at Christian testily. "So, you want fried crap, or is there something else on the menu you're after?"

"Don't listen to him, he's an ass," Adam said, wearing the biggest eat me grin he could muster. Christian glared at him, finally understanding what they were doing there. _He did not bring me to this crap joint so he can flirt with Hardy's little brother. Oh fuck me._

**9. Secretary **(150 words, Jeff Jarrett, Eric Bischoff)

Jeff crossed his legs nervously, knowing that his boss was trying to peek up his skirt. He hated the gray business attire, but Bischoff insisted he wear the demeaning dress when he worked in his office.

_Think of the boys, _he thought, gritting his teeth. He couldn't just quit, not when his boys were still here... and they could be abused by the bastard. He had to protect his boys, the James Storms and the Eric Youngs and the Samoa Joes and everyone who put their trust in him when TNA was just a fool's dream.

"Oh, _Jeff?_" Jeff looked up, locking his eyes on the loathed man. "I've got something here for you to do. Can you come here?"

Jeff sighed, standing up and flattening his shirt. Until he could find a way to fee TNA from him, he'd do everything he had to do to protect his boys. Everything and anything.

**10. Flapper **(97 words, John Morrison, Evan Bourne, Randy Orton)

Orton watched the dance floor with a smile on his face. He couldn't believe how happy John looked, dancing with Evan Bourne. They wore similar outfits, dresses with fringe on them and head bands with feathers on them; except Evan's was purple and black and John's was red and black.

This is why he opened this nightclub; it was a new day, with new ideas. He had to progress along with them, if he wanted to stay relevant.

John and Evan walked over, sitting in the booth, getting a breather. Randy's smile became a grin, and he said, "Drinks, friends?"


	2. 20

Here's the ten next prompts. I still own nothing, you still sue no one. All other messages from the first chapter still apply.

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**11-20**

**11. Swimsuit/Bikini **(131 words, Eric Young, Kevin Nash, Scott Hall)

"You're not allowed to laugh at me." Kevin smiled at the sound of Eric's gravelly voice; it was very deceiving, hearing such a voice speak as innocently as Eric Young did.

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"E, that's ridiculous."

"Just _promise._"

Kevin sighed. "Alright. Alright." It could be worse; after all, Kevin was used to working with divas and drama queens. Dealing with Eric Young was a cakewalk in comparison. And that's why he wa so fond of the younger man; he was a breath of fresh air. "Let me see you, E."

Eric open the door to the bathroom, smiling sheepishly in his two piece SpongeBob bikini. "So? What do you think?"

Meanwhile, Scott Hall carefully kept his giggles in behind the couch as he taped the scene. He knew this would be gold, no matter how Kevin reacted.

**12. Cowgirl **(156 words, Robert Roode, James Storm)

Robert Roode lay on his stomach, naked and grunting in frustration, testing the ropes that held his hands and feet together right over his ass. He could hardly move them; that bitch did a fine job of pulling the wool over his eyes. It was just supposed to be take the cowgirl back, get the pigtailed cutie to suck him off, maybe even get him to bend over for him.

And he got all that, sure enough, but now he was watching the bitch count _his _money. From _his _wallet. After pocketing _his _jewelery.

"Well, gotta admit, they don't usually cook my clam up like that." James stood up, grabbing one of the fifties in Robert's wallet and tossing it at his tied up body. "Get yerself somethin' nice. You know, whenever they find n'untie ya."

"I'm gonna get you, bitch."

"Well see 'bout that." James closed Robert's wallet, putting it in his pocket before walking out the door.

**13. Witch** (185 words, Christopher Daniels, AJ Styles)

Brown eyes bore down on blue, waiting for an answer. AJ's eyes went down to the tattoo of a ankh, visible above the neckline of the dark dress. In a way, it was fitting; he could be the key to everything AJ ever wanted. But he knew this could also be dangerous; he had no idea who the witch was or what he could do. In the end, desperation won out, and he found himself in the presense of the witch Christopher Daniels.

"Well?" He said, his silky voice invading AJ's senses. AJ blinked; he remembered he couldn't just stand around thinking. He was here. It was now. He had to make a choice.

"Yes," AJ said, "Yes. I'll do it."

Suddenly, without warning, AJ found his body against Chris'. A hand was against his hip and the other was against his back. "You understand, right? I'll give you what you want... but first, you need to give me what I want."

AJ gulped, the closeness near suffocating. He closed his eyes, reflecting on what he was about to do, before nodding. "Yes. I understand. And I agree."

**14. Kitty ** (173 words, Jeff Jarrett, Raven)

"Hey there, kitty man." Jarrett rolled his eyes, grabbing the ears that were placed on his head and immediately tossing them off. Leave it to Raven to bring that up again.

"Your kid doesn't even call me that any more."

"Yeah well, I still remember because you gave me that _terrible _image of Mick wearing that outfit, so..." Raven smirked, "I prefer to remember how cute you looked with that tail on." He patted his shoulder. "Thank you for pinning Mick."

All the abuse Jarrett got from Bischoff was so close to being Mick's. But _no. _Jarrett had to pin Foley, get him fired, and be left with the bag. And the cat ears. And every other embarrassing thing Bischoff made him do and say. He had his reasons for sticking with it, but sometimes he wondered if it would be better to stab Bischoff in his sleep.

If he thought he could get away with it, it would've happened.

"Hey Rae?"

"Yeah?"

Jarrett grabbed the ears, showing them on Raven's head. "You make a cuter kitty than Mick too."

**15. Mermaid** (175 words, Christian, Jeff Hardy, Matt Hardy, Edge)

"A pirate's life is a life for me!"

"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!" Christian and Jeff slapped their glasses together, downing the rum. Jeff had built a pirate ship out of cardboard, and soon he had Christian, Adam, and Matt all over his house, ready to play pirates. Matt was reluctantly in his pirate outfit, only deciding to cooperate when promised a parrot. Christian was all for it, already stoned out of his mind, was well into the game and was even going by the name Captain Crunch.

"Will you untie me?" Adam screamed. All three men looked to the front of the coardboard boat, to where Adam was tied to a makeshift mast. Jeff and Christian forced him into a clam bikini and a green skirt that looked a lot like a pair of fins.

"Every ship needs a mermaid on the mast," Jeff shouted.

"That means no, fool!" Christian added, grinning.

Matt just drank his rum quietly, a big smirk on his face. No better way to spend a Saturday than with your idiots.

**16. Flight attendant** (88 words, CM Punk, Stone Cold Steve Austen)

"Excuse me," Steve Austen tapped the arm of the passing flight attendant, smiling up at him. "Can I get a beer over here?" The flight attendant shook his head and tsked, making Austen's eyes narrow. For a moment, the attendant just stared at him, so he finally said, "Did you understand?"

"Oh yeah, I'm not addled by intoxication." Phil rolled his eyes. "This is a straightedge flight. We don't serve alcohol here."

"_What?_"

"We don't serve alcohol on this flight," Phil said, smiling smugly, "Can I get you a soda instead?"

**17. Just an apron** (119 words, Christian, Matt Hardy)

Christian moved around the kitchen gingerly, moving between flipping pancakes and frying eggs. He whistled some silly song as he did, wearing nothing but an apron to protect his best friends from any possible sizzle that could land on his body.

"Mmm. What's that smell?" Matt Hardy sat at the table, smiling at his good friend's back. It was completely bare; he couldn't help but stare at Christian's butt.

"Breakfast," Christian called back, "I usually cook for my friends after I fuck them sideways."

"Is that so?" Matt asked, "Well then... do you know what I do to friends who feed me?"

"Let me hear it."

Matt grinned, watching his ass. "I fuck them sideways."

"Well, I'm gonna have to cook a lot, aren't I?"

**18. Goddess** (204 words, Chris Jericho, Edge, Jeff Hardy)

Chris sat on the golden throne, his pure white dress clinging to his body as he watched the humans below. A young, blonde male was swimming in the lake, wearing nothing but his underwear. Not too far off, a younger male, this time with the colors of the rainbow streaking his blond locks, was drawing a picture of the landscape, entranced by the natural beauty of the outdoors.

Chris stood up, bored with the tranquil scene. He focused on the younger one, making him turn his eyes to the blonde in the water. He whispered words about the strength in the blonde's body, the way the sun touched his tanned back as he swam. Soon, the mortal was completely entranced with the man in front of him, and he began drawing him instead of the trees.

As the man got out of the water, Chris called his attention to his own reflection. The blonde male leaned down, smiling flirtaciously at his image in the lake. By the time Chris was done, the younger would kill to have the elder for his own, and the elder would kill to make his reflection his own.

"Dance mortals, dance. Dance for me," he whispered, prepared to see the scene unfold.

**19. Cheerleader** (161 words, Chris Sabin, AJ Styles, Alex Shelley)

"You need to lay off the donuts," AJ hissed, holding onto Chris' leg as best as possible. Alex Shelley held the other leg, making a small pyramid in the school gym.

"Don't drop me, bitches," Chris hissed, holding his arms up in a v shape.

"Then lose weight, fatass!" Alex shouted up.

"Hey, I'm not fat you buttfucking... whoa!" Alex let go of Chris' leg, sending him crashing into AJ. They fell to the ground, AJ groaning when Chris' butt forced his head into the ground. Chris rolled off of AJ, glaring up at Alex. "What's your damage?"

"I don't fuck butts," Alex said, sticking up the middle finger. He studied the scene, Chris on his knees, AJ still on the ground, legs spread and near motionless. He could clearly see the blue lace underwear beneath his skirt. "Nice panties, Styles"

AJ automatically shut his legs, shaking his head as he sat up. There was no way in hell they'd be ready for Saturday's game.

**20. Lolita **(124 words, Raven, Shawn Michaels, John Morrison)

Scott always looked like he was typing on his laptop. No matter what, when he was in the living room, he always looked preoccupied with his writing. He didn't want to scare Shawn, who could, at any time, kick him out of the house. And he definitely didn't want to scare Shawn's child, John.

He wasn't really typing anything. He was watching the beautiful teenager, delighting in every smile and laugh he shared with his friends (who weren't important in the least to the writer). He'd do anything to be near John, just to watch him and quietly adore him and that smile.

He looked down at his fingers, the gold band glistening against the black keys. Indeed, he did anything. Even marrying his nymphet's mother.


	3. 30

Finally, the ten last prompts. I still own nothing, you still sue no one. All other messages from the first chapter still apply. The last drabble contains some blasphemy, reader beware.

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**21-30**

**21. Little Red Riding Hood **(239 words, AJ Styles, Desmond Wolfe)

Desmond Wolfe kept his eyes trained on the boy in the red hood sitting down on the floor. Wolfe didn't say anything, quietly watching as he pulled out a small loaf of bread from his basket. It was gone in three hungry bites; obviously, the kid was starving. He stared at his basket longingly, but he instead rose up, sighing, and began walking again.

"You must be hungry." AJ stopped, turning to fix his eyes on the speaker. Blue eyes met shades, hiding the other's eyes from the world. He didn't look much older than AJ, but for some reason, he didn't feel safe.

"M'fine," AJ said, but a quick rumbling gave him away.

"How about you nibble on a little more from that basket?"

"It's for my grandma. She's sick. I can't eat her food."

"Well then..." Wolfe dug into his bag, eventually pulling out a bright red apple. He held it out to AJ. "Here. Enjoy." AJ stared at the apple, unsure of whether or not to trust the stranger, but eventually his hunger won out. He tenatively grabbed the apple, unaware of the intense stare Wolfe was giving him behind his shades, and he took a bite.

A grin broke out on Wolfe's face. A little more pushing, and maybe the hooded kid would trust him. And then, he could feed his own hunger. His eyes trailed down AJ's body, the movements cloaked by his shades. Oh yes, he couldn't wait.

**22. Policewoman **(95 words, Christian, Chris Jericho)

The radio crackled to life. Officer Irvine messed with the knob until the signal became clearer, and the voice filtered into the car. "We've got a 211 on East Parkway. What's your position?" Irvine reached for the radio, to answer the call.

SLAP!

"What's your deal?" Irvine snapped, wiping the glaze that got on his hand off on the dashboard. "Why'd you hit me?"

Reso just smiled, grabbing another donut and bringing it up to his mouth. "Let someone else take care of that. We're not the closest, we're nowhere near the Parkway. Enjoy the damn donuts."

**23. Wedding dress** (109 words, Christian, Edge)

"Look at my big bro, all grown up and getting married." Christian sniffled, exaggerating like he was crying. He wiped invisible tears from his eyes. "This is beautiful."

"Shut the fuck up and zip me." Adam snapped, turning back to look at him. He was in the voluminous dress, standing still, his back exposed by the open zipper.

"Let me appreciate the beauty of the moment, asshole." Christian sniffled again, before grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up. "There." He put an arm around Adam, seeing their reflection in the mirror. Bride and maid of honor, white lace next to blue satin. "You really look good, man. Congratulations."

**24. Ballerina **(134 words, Jeff Hardy, John Cena)

The Janitor quietly opened the door to the studio, hoping to get to work on cleaning the premesis, when he caught sight of the ballerina. He kept quiet, watching the graceful movements, not wanting to interrupt him. Jeff Hardy danced slowly to a Schubert piece, eyes closed, just allowing the music to lead him along the floor.

BAM!

Jeff turned around, the sound of the broom falling breaking his train of thought. He smiled at the Janitor. "I'm sorry, lost track of time. Is it really time for me to go?" The Janitor didn't want to say yes, but Jeff had already gathered his bag and began running towards the door. "Sorry!"

John Cena watched his back as it went farther and farther away, entranced. He'd do anything just to watch Jeff Hardy dance for another minute.

**25. Motel/Inn Owner **(140 words, Edge, John Morrison)

"Hello?" Adam rang the bell of the inn, his other hand holding the handle of his luggage. He'd been waiting for a few minutes, but still, no answer. Sighing, he leaned against the desk, thinking maybe it would be easier to find another hotel.

Suddenly, Adam looked up, footsteps catching his attention. A beautiful brunette in a flattering red dress stood there, smiling. "I apologize for the wait. How may I help you?"

"I need a room for three nights, two days," Adam said, smiling back at him. Oh the things he'd do to a guy like that.

"Good, good. One moment." The inn owner turned to the computer, inputting data with one hand. Adam didn't notice that he was wiping his other hand against his dress- a hand stained with something red. Something like blood.

Something that the dress was hiding quite nicely.

**26. Dancer** (107 words, Christopher Daniels, Kazarian, Samoa Joe, AJ Styles)

A flash of red spun past, the two spectators clapping to the beat of the fast Spanish song. They could see Kazarian spinning Chris around, both with looks of perfection concentration on their faces. Everytime Kazarian dipped Chris, Chris' arm went around Kazarian's neck; it was obvious to the audience that Chris didn't trust Kazarian at all, and Kazarian was trying to prove to his partner that he should trust him. Joe leaned over to AJ, a smile on his face.

"Ten bucks says Kaz drops Chris."

AJ quietly gave Joe a high five. "Oh, you're on."

"I heard that, assholes!" Kaz shouted, tightening his grip on Chris.

"Ow, dick!"

**27. Promotional Model** (141 words, Triple H, Shawn Michaels)

"Why, hello there!" Hunter waved at the studio audience, a big grin on his face. "I'm your host Hunter Hearst Helmsley, and this is another edition of my and your favorite game show, DeGeneration X!" Hunter paused for a moment before continuing. "Before we explain the rules of the game for all our new fans, let's hear what our contestants could win today. Shawn, if you will."

The camera panned over to the Shawn, who grinned widely. "Thank you Hunter. Today, our contestants can win one of each of these /fabulous/ prizes." He walked forward, holding his gloved hands around the first object. "A pool table." He kept walking, using his hands to frame each prize. "A speedboat. A home renovation system. A two person trip to Aruba, and of course, one million dollars!"

"Thank you Shawn. Now, let's meet our contestants."

**28. Fairy **(298 words, Rob Van Dam, Desmond Wolfe, Brutus Magnus, Doug Williams)

"Hey, have you seen my brownies?" Rob asked, looking into the room.

"No, I fucking haven't. Now get your arse out of my face."

"Sheesh, touchy." Rob held his hands up in innocence, backing out of the room. He'd heard of Desmond's temper but never really ran into it; Rob was way too relaxed to want his mellow to be crashed by a hot headed Brit.

"'Chuse meh." Rob turned as another Brit, this time a giggling Brutus Magnus, pushed past him.

"Hey man, you seen my brownies?" He got no reply. "Is that a no?"

_Why is that towel talking to me? _Brutus laughed, running off. He had to follow the dragon to the pot of gold.

"You! Robert!" Rob nodded at Doug Williams, watching him jog over. "Did Magnus just pass by here?"

"Yeah. Hey man, you seen my brownies?"

"_Your_..." Doug remembered seeing Brutus finish off a brownie, saying he picked it up from someone. "Oh good fucking Christ. Were you really moronic enough to bring weed brownies to work?

Rob twiddled his thumbs, trying to look innocent. "Well... no. I'm not that much of a moron." Rob looked down. "They were magic brownies. As in, you know, with L..."

"I _know _ what a magic brownie is, you imbecile." Doug put his hand to his forehead. "There is no possible way this will end well."

Brutus followed the magic purple dragon into a mysterious looking cave, the blue talking towel all but forgotten. He walked into the cave, shouting out when the dragon disappeared. "Mister Dragon, where'd you go?"

"What the fuck are you on about?" Brutus blinked; a bald fairy in a green tutu stood in front of him. He couldn't remember what the fairy said, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

"Are you here to grant my wishes?"

**29. Housewife** (194 words, Samoa Joe, AJ Styles)

"Where the hell are my keys?"

"Did you check the hook?"

"I'm not a fucking retard, Al, of course I checked the hook!" Joe slapped down on the dresser as he combed through his sock drawer. At this rate, he was going to be late for work. Finally, he raised his head, shouting to his wife from the room. "Could you get off your ass and help me look?"

"Excuse me, I'm washing the dishes!"

"My keys are just a _little _more important now, Al!" He shut the sock drawer, cursing. He nearly ripped the next drawer out of the dresser, throwing the clothes on the ground in search. "I swear, if I get shit for being late..."

"Ahem." Joe turned around, his anger fading as he saw AJ, standing at the doorway to their room, dangling his keys.

"Where were they?"

"On the hook." Joe blushed; he was sure his keys weren't there. AJ wasn't gloating aloud, but Joe could tell he was quietly enjoying his little victory.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Al." Joe said, mainly to appease AJ. He walked over, pressing a kiss to AJ's cheek as he grabbed his keys. "See you tonight."

**30. Angel** (453 words, Christopher Daniels, Eric Young, AJ Styles)

There's no warning. Nothing. One minute, you're doing God's bidding, saving the souls of humans alongside your partner. The next, you were on earth, only a bloody mass by your body to remind you of your wings.

Christopher could still remember touching his back, feeling the stumps where his wings once were. Blood stained his fingers as he pulled away, reminding him that he was very much mortal. He spent months upon years upon decades praying, hoping God would realize that a grave error was made and that Christopher would be back in heaven, back with his best friend, doing His work again.

His prayers went unanswered.

The stumps kept him from being fully human, so he could not die as easily as they did. All he could do was watch decades of corruption and sin. And soon, he wondered why he was praying to watch over and guide a species that spat on the goodness his Father bestowed upon them.

It made him angrier than he'd ever been in his existence.

He watched quietly as his old partner stood on a rooftop, beside a human with peroxide blonde hair and feathers sticking to his body with tar. The boy was about to jump, the sting of humiliation after humiliation bringing him to the point of suicide. Allen was invisible to the human, but Christopher could clearly see him whispering straight to the boy's soul.

_"Step back Eric. Eric, think about Jeremy, how he'll feel to hear that you're dead."_

Eric stepped back, tears staining his cheeks. Allen threw his arms around Eric; Eric couldn't feel the comfort physically, but somewhere deep inside, he could feel the warmth Allen was radiating.

Christopher wanted to push the ungrateful little bastard off the building, make him feel the pain he was willing to give his loved ones.

As Allen followed Eric out, making sure he didn't have second thoughts, Chris reached out for his partner's neck. For a moment, he could feel something like flesh, and the goosebumps he sent through it.

Allen turned around, looking for whatever touched him. But he couldn't see Christopher; not yet, anyway. Not until Christopher wanted him to. In a way, he was Allen's own guardian angel, invisible to him but still able to touch and whisper to his soul.

_"Fall with me." _

He'd spent decades thinking about him, searching for him. Wanting to give Allen the same enlightenment he had.

_"Fall with me."_

Their Father was wrong. He loved humanity so, but not one of them returned it. They took advantage of His love. The only way to truly serve Him... was to destroy humanity. And he'd show Allen that, teach him the truth. Watch him fall from grace, dragging little Eric along with him, damning his soul.

_"Fall with me."_


End file.
